


sending all my love along the wire

by boasamishipper



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: 2010s, Cats, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Introspection, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-Canon, Wedding Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 21:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boasamishipper/pseuds/boasamishipper
Summary: It’s the night before his wedding, and Maverick can’t sleep.





	sending all my love along the wire

It’s the night before his wedding, and Maverick can’t sleep.

Not for lack of trying, anyway. It had been a hell of a long day of ceremony walkthroughs and finalizing arrangements and greeting friends and family; he and Ice spent three hours in a bar in downtown San Diego with Slider, Merlin, Hollywood and Wolfman reminiscing about TOPGUN and the good old days. Then, because they’d both elected to stick to tradition, they’d gone their separate ways for the night — Ice to a hotel with his parents and sister, and Maverick to Viper’s house, where the ceremony would be held — with the promise to see each other in the morning. And now, for whatever reason, Maverick can’t fall asleep.

(He knows the reason. He just doesn’t want to admit it.)

For almost an hour, he tries every trick he knows — adjusting positions, regulating his breathing, counting F-14s — but nothing works. Frustrated, he kicks off the covers and pulls his knees up to his chest, staring off into the dark.

He reaches for his phone, which has been charging on the nightstand. It’s half past eleven — strange; he’d thought it would be midnight by now — and before he can stop himself, he unlocks the phone and dials the number he knows by heart.

A familiar voice answers after three rings — just not the voice he had been hoping to hear. _ “Grooms aren’t allowed to see each other before the wedding, Maverick.” _

“It’s not seeing each other if we’re only talking on the phone,” Maverick tries, but he can tell the argument doesn’t impress her. “Come on, Taylor. Just a couple of minutes.”

A long sigh. _“Alright. But only a couple minutes.” _

There’s some static on the line, muffling Taylor’s voice, and then, _ “Flaunting the rules as usual, I see.” _

Maverick’s smile spreads across his face, unbidden. “Couldn’t resist,” he says lightly. He can physically feel all of the tension and exhaustion leaving him, rolling off him in waves, and he settles back into the pillows. “I like living life on the wild side.”

_ “Yeah.” _ He can hear the smile in Ice’s voice. It’s not as good as getting to see him in person, but it’s close enough. _ “Yeah, I know you do.” _

“So,” Maverick says, and then realizes that he has no idea what to say, how to keep the conversation going. He listens to Ice’s breathing, a sound he’d know anywhere, and fiddles with the hem of the sheets. They’re comfortable, good quality; just like the ones at Ice’s house. He wonders if Ice and Corinne Metcalf use the same fabric softener. “Uh. How’s the hotel treating you?”

A burst of incredulous laughter. _ “Is that seriously why you called me?” _

_ No, I called because I miss you and I can’t sleep without you and it’s embarrassing, _Maverick doesn’t say. “Hey, it’s the same one we’ll be staying at tomorrow night. Might as well know if I’m getting my money’s worth.”

_ “It’s been a bit quiet for my taste,” _ Ice allows, which is as good of a confession that Ice misses him too. _ “But it’s nice. You’re definitely getting your money’s worth.” _ There’s some rustling on the other end; Maverick wonders if Ice is in bed too. He can see it now — Ice in a wifebeater and a pair of boxers, his hair mussed, his smile fond and exasperated — and it makes his heart ache with longing. _ “How’s SR-71?” _

Maverick laughs. “She’s fine,” he says. If he squints, he can just see the outline of their cat asleep on her own little bed in the corner of the room. She’d charmed Viper and Corinne with her first meow, and they’d been spoiling her all day. “She’s been polite, hasn’t scratched up anything. No need to worry.”

_ “Of course she’s polite; she’s a Kazansky through and through.” _

“Mitchell-Kazansky,” Maverick corrects, and he doesn’t need to be there to know that Ice is rolling his eyes. “Come on, Ice. This is the whole reason I’m marrying you. For legal guardianship of our cat.”

_ “Sounds about right.” _

Maverick opens his mouth to reply, and suddenly the magnitude of what he’d just said (of what they’d traveled all the way back to California for) hits him so hard it takes his breath away. “…We’re getting married tomorrow.”

_ “Yeah,” _ Ice says, and he gives a soft laugh like he can’t quite believe it either. _ “I know.” _

“You’re going to be my husband, Ice.”

_ “Yeah, I am. And you’re going to be mine.” _

“Yeah,” Maverick manages. His throat is almost too tight for speech. “I know.”

Almost twenty years they’ve been together and Maverick still thinks it’s a fucking miracle that Ice wants to be with him. That Ice sees something of worth in him. Him, Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick, who flies by the seat of his pants more often than not and is still plagued by survivor’s guilt and hides his pain beneath a veneer of cocky grins and stupid jokes. He knows that he doesn’t deserve someone like Ice — that Ice in turn deserves better than the likes of him — but here they are the night before their wedding and Ice still hasn’t figured it out.

Maverick clears his throat, relieved to hear his voice come out steady. “It’s not too late to back out, you know.”

_ “Not a chance,” _ Ice says, and Maverick releases a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. _ “You’re stuck with me forever, Mitchell.” _

Then again, he thinks, if Ice hasn’t figured it out yet, Maverick sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to tell him.

“Forever with you, huh?” Tears prick at his eyes. “I think I can live with that.”

_ “Good.” _ Ice sounds like he’s smiling again, and it makes Maverick smile too, like their emotions are linked by puppet strings. _ “Hang on — Jesus, Taylor, take it easy—” _

_ “No way,” _ Taylor says, her voice faint but indignant. Maverick pictures them wrestling for the phone and stifles a laugh into his wrist. _ “I said a couple minutes, it’s been five. You’ll see him tomorrow at the wedding. Hand it over, Tommy.” _

_ “Alright, fine, hang on.” _ Ice huffs out an exasperated breath. _ “Sorry, Mav. I’ve got to go before Taylor kicks my ass.” _

“Can’t have that,” Maverick says, because Taylor Kazansky might be in her mid-fifties now but he doesn’t doubt she’s still capable of kicking Ice’s ass. “I’ll see you later.”

_ “You can count on it.” _ Ice’s voice drops, going quiet so only Maverick can hear. _ “Get some rest, okay?” _

“I will,” Maverick promises, and this time he actually thinks he’ll be able to. “I love you.”

_ “I love you too. Night.” _

“Night.”

Maverick places the phone back on the nightstand and curls up in bed, drawing the covers up to his chest. He closes his eyes, breathing out slowly, and he lets the knowledge that Ice isn’t going anywhere (that he’ll be Ice’s husband this time tomorrow) carry him off into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
